The Girl in the Mirror
by fanficfan812
Summary: A continuation of the conversation Courtney had with her dads after she testified about her role in bullying Hannah


_Set after Courtney testifies about her role in bullying Hannah_ . . .

I hung my head as I traipsed into the living room, averting my eyes from the mirror that hung on the wall in front of me. Dragging myself over to the couch, I seated myself next to my dads.

Folding my hands in my lap as they argued about who was to blame for what, I burst into a fresh set of tears.

Being the awesome dads that they are, they snuggled me up in between them and reassured me that it was okay. That everyone does things in their own time. That I should be proud of myself.

How did I get so lucky to have them? To end up with parents like them?

To have people who felt that way about me—even after what I did to Hannah?

Grateful, I curled up in their embrace—and then let them tug me up from the couch and gently lead me across the room.

"Wait—what?" My eyes snapped up. "What are we doing?"

At the sight of my reflection, I flinched. My eyes darted to the floor; my throat burned with shame—heat spread through my chest.

"We want you to know that we're proud of you, Courtney." My dad put his hands on my shoulders. "You did a really brave thing today."

"But what about the way I treated Hannah?" I whispered. "Aren't you upset about that?"

Pops—my other dad—nudged up my chin. "Courtney—look at yourself."

"I can't!" I sobbed, tearing myself from both of their arms and fleeing to the safety of the couch.

Collapsing onto the cushions, I buried my head in my hands. "I bullied Hannah. I told lies about her—just so no one would talk about me."

"And you've owned that—and apologized for it." Pops sat down next to me.

"But not while Hannah was alive . . ."

"Courtney, we all make mistakes," Dad said, as he seated himself on my other side. "Like I said, everyone takes the time they take. The most important thing about mistakes is that we learn from them—just like you did today."

"We know you're struggling with what you did to Hannah," Pops said. "Coming to terms with that may take some time. But don't forget about what you did for her in court today—it was incredibly brave."

"I couldn't let them destroy her anymore." I wiped some tears from my cheeks. "It was the least I could do for her."

"And we're so proud of you for that, honey." Dad wrapped his arms around me. "We hope that, in time, you can be proud of yourself."

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that," I admitted. "I can't even look at myself."

"That will come in time," Pops reassured me. "In the meantime, why don't you try seeing yourself through our eyes?"

Pops and Dad guided me up off the couch and back over toward the mirror.

"I don't think I can do this," I protested.

"Please, will you just try, honey?" Dad asked. "Just for a second or two?"

"No—please—I just can't."

"Are you sure about that?" Pops questioned me. "Because we see a girl who's got a huge, courageous heart."

"A girl who rose above her fears and did the right thing today," Dad added. "A girl who owns her mistakes and tries to do better. A girl who stands up for her friends."

I peeked up. "You . . . you see all of that?"

Pops squeezed my arms. "That—and so much more."

Dad kissed my cheek; Pops hugged me.

They both started across the room.

"Where are you going?" Anxiety flooded my chest.

"To get our old photo albums," Dad answered. "To remind you of the little girl you were—of the person you've always been."

My heart lodged in my throat; I blinked back a fresh set of tears.

"You really think that?" I called after them. "That that's who I've been all along?"

"Of course it is, honey," Dad answered. "One day—hopefully, soon—you'll realize that for yourself."

Giving my dads a small, quick smile, I inched my head back toward the mirror.

Steadying myself, I forced my eyes up.

My hands shaking, I touched my fingers to my face and let them slide down my cheek.

I had to stay strong—had to stay steady. After all, that girl they had talked about—she was really in there, right?

Wasn't she the one who had been brave? Who had outed herself on the stand? Who had outed everything that she was?

A girl who loved girls. A girl who had bullied a friend and lied to cover it up.

A girl who regretted what she'd done—who'd do anything to take it all back.

A tear sprang to my eye.

My dads were right: telling my truth was incredibly brave.

My chest lightening, I smiled at the girl looking back at me for the first time in months.

That girl—the one staring back at me right now—she had a whole lot of heart and guts.


End file.
